


Path to Redemption

by kecleon



Category: Strange Men (Video Games), The Hanged Man (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Emetophobia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Panic Attacks, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-22
Packaged: 2019-03-08 00:23:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kecleon/pseuds/kecleon
Summary: Tired and alone, Ed Hayes searches for George Schmid's notebook, which holds exactly what he needs to deserve happiness again. Of course, that isn't an easy task when you're easily startled and prone to panic.





	Path to Redemption

_“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”_

That was his current mantra. Sometimes it went along the lines of, _“I’ll be happy, I’ll be happy, I’ll be happy.”_ Other times it was _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”_

No matter what he told himself, nothing changed what he had done.

It was all his fault, and there was nothing he could do to fix his mistake.

* * *

The young man was bundled up in a dark blue winter coat, leaning up against a battered bookshelf as he slept. His blond hair was messy and somewhat greasy; he had been doing his best to keep clean while living in the abandoned shelter, but the place itself was filthy and rundown. He didn’t mind too much; it was a home, a place where he had felt happiness.

Now, that emotion had escaped him, even though he had held onto it as hard as he could for so long.

Suddenly he jolted awake, his chest pounding. “R-Robert!”

Another nightmare.

The man stumbled to his feet, eyes wide in fear. His breath was coming out harsh and shaky, sweat forming on his hands and face. He stood as still as possible as he focused on steadying his breathing, trying to calm himself down as he stared into the dark.

“C-Calm down, E-Ed… I-It’s okay, I-I’m okay…”

Slowly Ed sat himself back down, pulling his coat closer around him. He was safe. He was in one of the storage rooms - he had stopped there to eat and take a small nap. Robert was safe _(he hoped)_ , most likely at work or at home _(he hoped)_. Nothing bad had happened.

He hoped.

With a bit of fumbling, Ed pulled a lighter out of one of his pockets and reached for a nearby lantern. The candle flickered before illuminating the room.

Ed felt himself ease a little bit. He was alone; no one was watching him from the shadows.

This wasn’t the first time Ed had gotten like this - when he lived at home it would happen several times a month, most commonly when his father was in one of his “moods”. Other times would be at night. When Ed had been thinking too much; too hard, he’d sometimes work himself into a panic. Or it’d be like now, when he’d have a nightmare. Robert had said that they were caused by extreme stress and proceeded to blame their father, but Ed didn’t want to think like that. Sometimes Ed felt like Robert put too much blame on their father.

Their father wasn’t _horrible_ \- he wasn’t a good person per se, but he wasn’t a bad man, despite everything he -

A rustling tore Ed from his thoughts; thankfully, as his heart had begun racing again.

A small rat was crawling on discarded snack wrappers. Ed watched as it licked at some crumbs; he loved animals and enjoyed being around any sort. The rodent proceeded to eat at the leftovers, and Ed watched contently. He didn’t want to move in case he startled the rat.

He knew what it was like to be frozen in fear.

Quickly Ed shook the thought from his head. He didn’t want to think of those things - every time his father had beat him, or screamed and blamed him for things he couldn’t help or hadn’t done, or the time where he had beaten his father and there was blood everywhere, all over him -

“STOP IT!”

Ed froze. He was standing up, trembling. The rat was gone.

Panic started to overtake him. He hadn’t hurt it, had he? There was no blood, no anything…

He must of just scared it when he got up.

Despite a feeling of relief, Ed could feel himself starting to cry.

He hated this.

He hated it when he got like this.

He’d lose time, moments - whether it was because he had worked himself up or someone else had, it didn’t matter. Sometimes it was for a few seconds, other times it was minutes.

Rubbing his face dry with the edges of his sleeves, Ed sniffled. He should stop wasting time and go look for what he was here for. If he could find George’s notebook and photograph, and fulfill the requirements, he would be allowed to be happy again, before turning himself in.

Hopefully.

He picked up the lantern, gently pushing open the door and stepping into the dark hallway. It was as eerie as ever, but having lived here for awhile now, Ed was adjusted to it. He still couldn’t help but hold some fear close to him as he walked down the hallway, but considering how large the building was, and that it always seemed dark no matter the time, he thought it was justified.

Of course, Ed was scared of basically everything under the right circumstances.

* * *

Edward sighed, sliding down the wall and resting the dying lantern at his side. He had spent at least two, maybe three, hours searching through the second building of the Deep Forest Shelter, unable to find the notebook no matter where he looked. He was now resting in what used to be the staff room, a spread of candles laying at his feet.

At least he had some candles.

There was suddenly a faint sound of footsteps, rapidly coming closer. Ed jerked up, knocking over the lantern in the process of darting behind a shelf. The room went pitch black, and Ed held his breath as the footsteps slowed down, coming to a slow walk outside the office.

“Pop?”

_Oh. It’s that kid again… Will, I think?_

Ed stayed silent, listening as the kid he had seen earlier walked away, calling out the name of his pet rat every so often.

_Guess he isn’t having any luck, either… Wait, what if he found the notebook? Or the photo?_

Ed stumbled over the lantern as he got up, falling flat on his chest, knocking the wind out of him.

“D-Dang i-i-it…,” he coughed, tears building up in the corners of his eyes. His father was right - he _was_ incompetent.

Grabbing the lantern and a few candles, Ed pushed himself up and headed out into the hallway. There was no sign or sound of Will.

_He must of took off running again… He has so much energy._

Fumbling with the lighter, Ed lit another candle and carefully placed it inside the lantern. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, but maybe if he found Will he’d be able to locate the notebook faster.

Was the rat he had seen earlier Will’s?

Ed felt his face flush, biting his lip as he realized that he may have scared off Pop earlier.

_“You fuck everything up, you know that, Edward?”_

_“Why don’t you ever THINK? You just aimlessly wander around, like a piece of shit.”_

_“Why don’t you just hurry up and kill yourself? Or do you think you’d managed to fuck that up, too?_

A sharp clanging noise jerked out Ed out of his trance, causing him to stumble back in fear, surrounded by darkness. He clapped his hands to his mouth, stopping himself short of screaming.

His dad was _not_ there.

He _couldn't_ be there.

He was d -

Edward retched, vomiting hitting the cement floor and speckling his jeans and shoes. He gasped for breath, his chest heaving from fear and nausea.

“S-s-s-stop… J-j-just…. S-s-top…”

Backing up against the wall, a weak sob escaped Edward as he slunk to the floor, rubbing vomit from his mouth as he tried to not faint. He couldn’t see anything and all he could hear was this awful buzzing sound and footsteps and he swore his father was watching, waiting, and that he would -

“E-Edward?”

Hands gripped Ed’s shoulders and shook him gently, and all the young man knew to do was start flailing, hyperventilating as he felt himself slipping.

“Edward, breathe! It’s me, Robert!”

“R-Robert…?”

Arms wrapped themselves around Edward’s trembling body, and he gripped tightly at the coat in which his brother wore. The light from Robert’s flashlight was faint, but just enough that Edward knew he was safe, knew that it was okay that he was basically clinging to Robert for dear life.

Robert rubbed Edward’s back, instructing to breath slowly and to focus on him. Ed felt hazy; ill from his surroundings. The smell of vomit was strong in his nostrils, but also the familiar scent of the laundry detergent Robert used.

Ed pressed his face against Robert’s chest, breathing easier, but still heavily. His older brother held him gently, lifting him up and into the staff room, onto a chair where Edward finally relaxed once Robert had lit several candles.

Everything hurt.

“W-Why a-a-are you-”

“I was looking for you. I brought you some food and a warmer coat…” Robert paused, frowning slightly. “What happened?”

Shaking his head, Edward spoke. “I-I-I… don’t want t-t-to…”

“Ah.”

Edward sniffled.

“He’s not going to hurt you, okay, Eddie? No one’s gonna hurt you anymore.”

“I-I k-k-know… I just…. G-got s-scared…”

“I know. It happens. Just… you need to stay hidden, especially right now, okay?” Robert said, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice. Edward knew that he shouldn’t be wandering around like this, especially if he was going to have a panic attack at any given moment, but he needed that notebook.

“Are you okay to walk?” Robert asked, glancing nervously at the door behind them, “We should probably get somewhere a little open. I thought I saw someone earlier, but I’m not sure. Better safe than sorry, though.”

Ed nodded, wiping his face off with a corner of his coat. “Y-Yeah. L-Let’s go.”

Robert cast his brother strange look, but nodded in return and knelt down to put a candle in the lantern. Ed hung back a little bit as his brother walked ahead, letting himself take a few deep breaths.

First he needed to get somewhere hidden, somewhere to relax; to rest.

The he would go search for the notebook, and hopefully find the photograph with it.

After then…

He would atone for his sins.

**Author's Note:**

> Blegh. I originally started this fic about a week after The Hanged Man was released, and then lost all my desire to write up until now. It turned out a lot better than I had expected, so eyyyy.
> 
> Thank you for reading + comments + kudos! ✌️


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